The Strength of Gold and Steel
by Cuaglar
Summary: The three unlikely heroes, now united and safe from the Emerald Claw, travel to the Mror Holds to attempt a mission to throw off the chains of debt from Lyr. But there's always more to dwarves than axes and beards.


Book Two: The Strength of Gold and Steel

Book Two: The Strength of Gold and Steel

Chapter 1: An Agreement is Reached

Lyr had spent a week so far in the Darbun Manor, and was beginning to relax.

For the first couple days of their possession of the manor, Lyr, Loressin, and Militia were very tense and worried. Militia had stood watch by the door all night, as the warforged didn't need to sleep, and when errands had to be run they either sent Ms. Lealeaf, their maid, or went in pairs, usually Loressin or Lyr with Militia.

But, as the week drew on and there was no sign of the Emerald Claw, they began to relax. Loressin, easily the most timid of them all, even went out by himself to get special ink for his spellbook after the fifth day. And Lyr began to decide that maybe the heat of the chase was beginning to cool, for now at least, and that it would do good to relax.

Lyr was doing this by buying clothing. This might ordinarily be seen as frivolous vanity, but Lyr, knowing full well the value of faces, knew better than to be fond of her appearance.

Changelings could only change their faces, shifting them to form marvelously efficient disguises. Their clothing and equipment remained unchanged, acting as identifying marks, as Lyr had discovered last week, when she had been picked amongst the two hundred thousand people living in Sharn for her weapon and for her blue Aundairian nobleman's (or noblewoman's) clothing.

Lyr was in the Plateau Bazaar, and Loressin and Militia were somewhere in the sprawl and cluster of the shops as well, pursuing their own purchases.

The Plateau Bazaar was a-pardon the pun- bizarre place to shop. It occupied prime space atop a rocky plateau in the center of Sharn, and as such was literally overflowing; all the space inside the rim was utterly full of stalls, shops, and boutiques, and there were more shops on ledges both natural and man-made around the walls of the plateau, down to the very base.

Lyr had just finished buying a nondescript brown robe, so that she could disguise herself as a lowly priest, a pilgrim, a beggar, even a lunatic prophet should the need arise, when Loressin and Militia came into the tailors. Lyr had currently hidden her blank, featureless face and white hair behind the face of a tired-looking human woman with red hair, which she brushed out of her eyes as she greeted them.  
"Ah, hallo you two. I'm nearly finished here," She said, smiling as she put the robe into her sack.

"Nearly finished?" Loressin asked, looking in. "You have enough clothing in here to outfit the Circus of Shadows!"

"Well, at least some of them display some manner of practicality, Master Bumblebee," Lyr replied, referring to Loressin's habit of always dressing in bright yellow robes with black hems, and to his pointed hat, which had a black and yellow feather in it. "Even if you were a changeling, you couldn't hide in a crowd of millions."

Loressin dismissed her criticisms by pushing his glasses up his nose, and said,

"When you're done, we'll be heading towards the Kundarak Bank. We got a letter this morning from the place telling us that all three of us needed to come and verify that we were transferring Professor ir'Darbun's account there to us. Which, considering what a tidy sum he has in there, is fairly desirable."

"What? Why didn't I know about this letter?" Lyr asked shrilly.

"Well, Militia received it, and apparently she thinks that I'm in charge of everything related to paper." Loressin replied. Lyr looked at the large, bulking warforged, covered with dull black adamantine, who looked down at Lyr with her expressionless face and said in a woman's voice,

"That's not true. He was still asleep at the time and you were not. I thought he should be awakened, but I didn't want to do it without a purpose."

But Lyr wasn't paying attention. She nodded absently, and said,

"Right, fine. Wait outside, I'll be done in a minute."

Loressin nodded and waved, saying as he walked out the door,

"Remember, the letter was very insistent that all three of us needed to sign."

After they had gone, Lyr spent a few minutes fumbling for coins to pay for her clothing to try to collect her thoughts. Eventually, she straightened her back resolvedly. It wasn't likely that every Kundarak banker knew about Lyr's situation… Odds were, her name on the account transfer document would get buried, and they'd never be the wiser.

Lyr changed her face to that of a black-haired, tall young man, in fact remarkably similar to Loressin. She put on a dark blue robe and cloak in the changing room of the tailor's, hoping to be taken for Loressin's brother or cousin.

Outside, Lyr tapped Militia and Loressin each on the shoulder, their agreed-upon signal to let them know it was her in disguise.

"All right, I'm ready. Let's go. But, for my own amusement, please pretend that I am your brother, Maris d'Orien."

It was quite a business, getting around in Sharn. It was said by some that you could walk a hundred miles, up, down, and all around, and never get to your destination. There were bridges, walkways, little floating boxes that moved between ledges, and of course the skycoaches, flying along thanks to the help of an air elemental bound to the vehicle. But the cheapest and easiest way to go to where you needed to in Sharn was by carriage.

Loressin engaged the services of a small, one-horse buggy, and they began trundling along the intricate web of pathways that connected the towers of Sharn.

After about half an hour of navigation, the Kundarak Bank of Sharn at last loomed into view. The last time Lyr had seen it, it had been in a driving rain, on the run from the Order of the Emerald Claw on board a skyship that proven her salvation. It was a broad rectangular tower, made of marble with gold designs in filigree, and a large statue of a rearing manticore, supposedly made of solid gold, stood at the top. Lyr had scoffed at it before, and she scoffed now. She was certain there was only one way for that bank to make money, and that was through exploiting people like her.

The carriage pulled up on a wide platform in front of the bank, and the three stepped out and walked towards the tall doors, made of black wood with mountains depicted in gold tracings.

The hall inside was rather crowded, to Lyr's satisfaction. There were five levels, arranged in a circle around a small open space, and each level had a counter where dwarven bankers in sober black clothing assisted the wealthy of Sharn with their finances. Rich people of all races conducted their business in a riot of colors and styles, like tropical birds strutting around. Loressin looked rather uncomfortable, perhaps conscious of his clothing in the midst of this social elite, Militia's face was inscrutable, and Lyr's was one of feigned unconcern, and she fell into the part of Loressin's far richer and more influential brother.  
"Come along, let's get this done. No need to stand around staring." Lyr said haughtily, striding into the crowd.

Once they were comfortably obscured in the flowing masses, Lyr found a clerk who seemed to be indisposed.

"Good day," She said in an arrogant drawl, as if she was bored already, "We are here to transfer Professor Bendred ir'Darbun's account."

The dwarf paused a moment to look through some papers, then found a thick sheaf of parchment and examined it.

"Yes, it is due to be transferred. Could I see some identification, please?" He asked, holding out his hand.

Lyr, Loressin and Milita handed over three small wooden cases, holding their identification papers. Of course, Lyr's were false, though Loressin and Militia didn't know it. While Loressin had been helping Militia with her papers, Lyr had snuck out and bought several falsified papers from a reliable source, so that she had a number of 'official' identities.

The dwarf clerk examined each of their papers very carefully, even taking out an eyeglass and putting it to his eye, looking diligently for forgeries. At last, he shook his head.

"My apologies, Lord Maris," He said, talking to Lyr. "But it says here that the account must be transferred jointly by Lyr, Loressin d'Orien, and Militia. Unless Lyr is present, I cannot perform this action."

A heavy hand suddenly laid itself on Lyr's shoulder, and a scratchy, deep voice said,

"Perhaps I could help with that technical difficulty. Lyr, is in fact, standing before you."

Lyr turned to see who it was speaking, and brushed his hand off when she saw who it was. It was a rather shorter than normal dwarf, with a wise, grandfatherly face and a broad grey beard. He was dressed in luxurious dark green clothes, and fine gold chains were draped here and there like sashes. Behind him were four powerful-looking dwarves, in black-leather effaced plate armor, wearing helms that obscured their faces, and heavy, black-handled axes were at their belts.

"Munin d'Kundarak." Lyr said to herself, filling the name with as much loathing as she had in her soul. Knowing that the game was up anyway, she shifted to her natural appearance. Loressin started to ask what was going on, but the elderly dwarf interrupted,

"Why don't you go ahead and sign the papers, my lady? After you are done transferring the account, I have something very important to tell you."

Lyr frowned. What did this dwarf, Munin d'Kundarak, want with her? Why didn't he just arrest her? His intimidating bodyguards didn't seem to imply that his opinion had turned friendly towards her, yet he was talking civilly, and not clamping irons on her.

She decided to play along, and, while Munin and his guards looked on, the three of them stood and signed the papers, over and over, until they were finished. Loressin looked confused, and kept looking nervously at the armed dwarves, but he didn't ask what was going on. Perhaps he was thinking that he would find out soon enough. Militia, as always, seemed imperturbable. Lyr guessed that, for all Militia knew, this happened all the time in banks.

When they had finished, Munin took her elbow, in a surprisingly strong yet gentle grip, and said,

"Now, please come and talk with us, dear. Your friends may come along as well, if they wish."  
"We do." Loressin said, and Militia nodded with a scraping sound. "But we'd really like to find out what is going on."

"If you come with us, you'll find out. Your acquaintance with Lyr being as short as it is, I didn't suppose you'd know."

Lyr yanked her elbow out of Munin's grip, and the bodyguards laid hands on their axes.

"I'll play along, and hear what you have to say, Munin," Lyr said angrily, "But please don't pretend to be friendly or familiar with me."

Munin nodded, apparently with relief. His voice changed subtly, losing a lot of its softness and kindness, and becoming harder, yet more natural.

"Good. Then I can be blunt and direct, and save us a lot of time. More things get done when you talk like a dwarf. Come with us, to my office."

The bodyguards formed an arc behind Lyr, Loressin, and Militia, and began herding them to one of the doors leading out of the hall, with Munin d'Kundarak leading. As they walked through the doors, Loressin leaned close to Lyr, the wide brim of his pointy hat brushing the top of her head, and said,

"I'm afraid we're in the soup again. I just hope you didn't do anything that bad."

"Oh, I did." Lyr snapped back, putting a little pride in her voice to startle the wizard.

"Oh. Oh bother." Loressin's face fell, and he fell behind, between Militia and Lyr.

The dwarves led Lyr and her companions down, deeper and deeper, further down the tower. Beyond the magnificence of the entryhall, the rest of the tower seemed to be undecorated and plain. The stonework was assuredly much superior to most of the rest of Sharn, but it was not appealing or beautiful, just remarkably efficient.

They reached Munin's office, which the elderly dwarf opened with a silver and gold key, and invited them in. The bodyguards remained outside as Lyr, Loressin, and Militia filed in.

Munin's office, in contrast to the richness of his clothes, was very stark and bleak, with only a simple desk in the middle, a small bookshelf beside it, and a single chair behind it, which Munin took. Light flowed in fitfully through one arrowslit high on the wall, making everything rather murky.

Munin put a pair of spectacles on his nose, and looked at Lyr, a stern expression coming to his face.

"Your friends remain in ignorance of your condition. Would you like me to tell them, or would you? Or would you prefer it to remain secret?" He asked.

Lyr sighed with exasperation, but didn't say anything. The dwarf took this to mean that she wanted him to explain, so he did.

"Lyr is in debt to the Banking Guild of House Kundarak for 200,000 gold coins, in reparations for the theft of a Kundarak treasure airship." He said simply.

Loressin and Militia looked at Lyr in shock and amazement, or at least Loressin did; Militia merely looked.

"But you got it back!" Lyr said, keeping her temper. "You took it back!"

"The act of theft, and the loss in revenue it represented, cost House Kundarak much more than that." Munin answered.  
Lyr rolled her eyes, but didn't retort as forcefully as she might.

"So, why haven't you had me thrown in prison? I'm in your hands."

Muning smiled, and cracked his knuckles.

"Because your situation is so dire, it offers a considerable amount of leverage. I know this well, because I was the one who put you in it. And I will not lie to you; you have been a thorn in my side ever since you first set foot on what was to become the Inexplicable. I would like little more than to have you rot in jail for life. However, there is something I like more. Or rather, hate more. Therefore, I am going to offer you a choice, an offer. If you take me up on it, and succeed, I will declare your debt cancelled."

"And if not, you throw her in prison?" Loressin asked.

"Precisely."

Lyr didn't even have to think about it. Regardless of the task this hairy old copper-pincher would have her do, it would buy her time to hide again, hide deeper.

"What do you want me to do?" Lyr asked, sounding resigned.

Munin nodded, not answering her question, and put three glasses on the desk, and filling them with white wine from a bottle on his bookshelf.

"First of all," Munin said as he took his glass and leaned back. "Are you familiar with the Aurum? Or even know of it at all?"

Lyr shook her head, while Loressin pondered for a bit.

"It's an obscure society of wealthy noblemen and merchants dedicated to scholarly pursuits, I believe." Loressin at last answered.

"Ah, so you believe. So do many others. In reality, the Aurum is devoted to acquiring money. It uses that wealth to gain power, and that power to gain more wealth, for what end I don't know."

"Kind of like House Kundarak?" Lyr spat, folding her arms.

"We do not keep wealth or power. We help protect it." Munin said coldly.

"However, whatever the Aurum's goals are… Well, if you thought I was cold-hearted and ruthless, I'm the amiable old village fool when it comes to these people. They will go to any lengths to get what they want, no matter how despicable, and for no better reason than they want it. They are quite villainous folk.

"Anyway, I have many problems with this Aurum. My most pressing is the one I'm about to let you handle. According to my sources in Krona Peak, the unofficial base of the Aurum and the unofficial capital of the Mror Holds, an Aurum member high in the ranks is moving for a very dangerous person to be released from the island prison of Dreadhold. This person is called the Sable Crow, who is a freelance sorcerer assassin, whose tally of successful, horrifying kills is simply appalling. Whatever reason the Aurum has for trying to release this man can't be good. I cannot allow this man to be set free.

"What I want you to do is to travel to Krona Peak, and find out what Lady Diesa d'Soldarak wants with the Sable Crow, and foil it. Lady Diesa is a dwarf noblewoman, and supposedly merely collects ancient Lhazaarite artifacts, when in fact she is one of the militarily strongest members of the Aurum, as she can call on her connections in House Deneith to swiftly obtain a large mercenary force at a discounted price. You can find out more from my source. When you get to Krona Peak, seek out Kundr Tondaral. He works as a blacksmith, but he has a great knack for finding out things which other people want hidden. He will tell you more.

"So, that's your task. I recommend that you begin preparing for your journey."  
"Thank you ever so much, for this opportunity to freeze in the dwarven homeland, Lord Munin." Lyr said sarcastically. "May we go now, or should you inform your muscle not to hew us down when we exit?"  
Munin glared at Lyr, and said, coldly,

"One, the weather in the Holds is quite clement at this time of year, and two, you may leave any time you like."

Lyr strode out, with Loressin and Militia following. The guards outside started at their appearance, but did not draw their axes, nor pursue them, as they walked back the way they came.

"Listen here, Lyr," Loressin said, catching up to Lyr and walking alongside, his long legs keeping in stride easily with Lyr's furious stomp. "What was all that about? How on earth did you manage to get indebted for 200,000 sovereigns?"

Lyr looked at the wizard, and the hulking warforged behind them, and said,

"First of all, before I tell you, I want to know if you would help me get rid of it. Otherwise, there's no real point in telling you." Actually, there would, from their point of view. But Lyr wanted to judge how far they would be willing to go to help her do this task of Munin's, if they did it all.

Loressin thought for a moment, concentrating. Then he said,

"I owe you my life, which is worth much more than money. I mean, to me. But, that is to say, I wouldn't betray someone if somebody else was threatening me. Bah, the point is, I owe you one. I'll come with you and try to sort out this business with the Sable Crow and the Aurum."

"And you, Militia?" Lyr asked, turning her head to talk as they walked. She realized that Militia was used to people asking rhetorical questions, and not expecting answers from her.

"I will come with you. I owe you my name. And if you and Loressin go, I would be here alone. I'm still not completely reassured that the threat from the Emerald Claw is over."

Lyr smiled gratefully, to help reassure them, and began telling her story as they walked through the passages of the Bank.

Lyr hadn't always been a shiftless facechanger, just trying to make a living by duplicity and trickery. Once, she had been a shiftless facechanger trying to make a living by privateering in a skyship.

Three years ago, Lyr had joined forces with a clever young artificer called George of Fairhaven, who was studying in Arcanix of Aundair, which was Lyr's hometown. George had discovered a way that a bound elemental could be controlled without possessing a dragonmark, so that someone could operate, say, a Lyrandar airship without having the Mark of Storm. Intrigued by the idea, Lyr and George mustered a small crew and captured an airship, a treasure galleon in the service of House Kundarak, though piloted by a Lyrandar half-elf.

When they were safely hidden in the mountains of the Blackcaps in the southern parts of Aundair, George and Lyr set to work. George set to work making the device he had designed, and the modifications that George needed to make to enable the airship to be piloted by anyone required extensive re-design of the hull. And that's where Lyr came in.

Little did Militia and Loressin know, but Lyr was an accomplished shipwright. Her hand was in some of the finest vessels to sail Lake Galifar, on whose shores Arcanix sat. And she carefully remade the treasure galleon into an almost entirely new ship, so much so that it was given a new name; the Inexplicable.

After it was complete, Lyr was named captain of the Inexplicable, and wreaked merry hell wherever she pleased, whenever. Sometimes they would do things as harmless as transporting passengers where Lyrandar captains wouldn't go, and at other times they would raid caravans and travelers, or even other airships. The Inexplicable and her captain were as free and capricious as a northern storm.

But the carefree life of a privateer was over too soon for Lyr. One day they tried to make a score that was too big for them; another Kundarak treasure galleon airship, seeking both the ship's cargo and another ship for an armada Lyr dreamed of. Whereas they had had success in capturing the Inexplicable before through the mere fact that no one had ever stolen an airship before, this time the Kundarak dwarves were ready. Lyr's crew were defeated and captured. Lyr and George only barely escaped prison by leaping off the ship and floating to safety with a spell that George cast.

Now they were really in trouble. From the moment they had realized what George had done in joining forces with Lyr to steal an airship, the Arcane Congress of Arcanix banished him, and the floating towers of Arcanix were the only things that George could call home, being an orphan. And of course Lyr had nowhere else to go, because of her race and because she had no family as well, being raised by a human shipwright who had passed his skill to Lyr.

So, to befuddle the pursuit, they decided to split ways. George was to flee west to Korth, one of the metropolises of the land of Karrnath, and Lyr was to go south, and try to find refuge in Wroat or Sharn, Breland's major cities.

The plan had been carried out, but with one flaw; Lyr hadn't had one word from George since she left him. And she couldn't get word to him, either, or she would be detected. The Messenger's Guild was run by House Sivis, which had very close ties to House Kundarak, which had declared a 2,000 gold piece bounty on her, one percent of the debt she owed for the stolen airship.

By the time Lyr finished her tale, they were out of the bank, and walking back home.

Loressin was quiet for a long time, his face inscrutable. Lyr was quiet as well, though she wasn't awaiting his judgment, just giving him the courtesy of forming his own opinion.

"Well, it's certainly an exciting tale," Loressin said, "I wouldn't have thought anyone lived like that, if you hadn't told me. It would make for a good story, if there were a bit more dialogue and such. Might even write it someday, with your permission."

Lyr was pleased; Loressin actually sounded impressed, not patronizing or admonishing.  
"Let's wait for a bit until the ending doesn't have to be, 'And then she spent fifty years in debtor's prison.' What's our next move?"  
"I've considered that. Perhaps you would like to avoid the task at hand, and I understand that. You might wish to act against the man -er, dwarf- who caused you so much trouble. However, I believe his words about the Sable Crow. If he's such a fearsome assassin, I would feel terrible if he was let loose again, to kill people."

"Also, remember that we were once pursued by assassins as well," Said Militia. "Perhaps we could prevent another person from being in our situation, only worse, because we survived and got a house."

Lyr hadn't thought of that. Although she didn't give a troll's ear about the Sable Crow, perhaps one of the people he could be employed against could be _her._

"That still doesn't explain the next move." Lyr admonished.

"Our next move is to travel to Krona Peak. We could either spend over a year walking there, or nineteen days through lightning rail, coach, and ship." Loressin answered, briefly flurrying his fingers as if counting on them, though Lyr was sure no one could count that fast.

"However, to do so is extremely expensive, unless we bend the rules a little."

Lyr laughed, and said,

"I have bent more rules than there are feathers on a dragonhawk. Let's get started."

Elemental vessels in the Eberron Dungeons and Dragons setting include lightning rails, airships, and elemental galleons, and consist of vehicles that have a large spirit consisting entirely of one of the classical elements (earth, fire, air, and water) bound to it. However, to control such a vessel requires a specific dragonmark, either the Mark of Passage to control a lightning coach (which Loressin possesses) or the Mark of Storms (Half-elf dragonmarked House of sea and air transport) to control an airship or an elemental galleon.


End file.
